Tastes Like Chicken

I can honestly say that I grew up in a fairly rural part of Texas. I raised sheep in FFA; I sustained my first broken wrist when I was bucked off a horse. However, these did not prepare me for what I saw yesterday as I left school. Just to set up the scene a little better, you should know that some of my kids have told me stories about riding burros (donkeys), which I thought were just for keeping the coyotes from attacking cattle (told you I was rural), and fighting cocks (chickens), which I think is illegal. ? Anywho, as I exited the parking lot of the school, I spied a young boy walking down the road with a white something in his hand. As I approached, it took all my might to not stop to take a picture of this young boy, for in his hands was a dead chicken! That's right, a dead chicken! I'm thinking that this fellow was carrying dinner home...no joke. Either that or he was the weaker cock. Regardless, I find it fairly amusing that I blog and and shop in stores like Banana, Ann Taylor, and teach students who wrangle up their own dinner, literally.